Owen Jones
Maya - Illusion
2 THE VISA RUN TO LAOS
Vientiane, the capital of Laos was not actually all that far away, as the crow flies, but getting there was a very different story unless one flew, which Lek and Craig decided against for financial reasons. Lek took the bus into Phitsanulok with one of her girlfriends to buy the bus tickets the day before they were about to leave. This too was not a long journey, but it could easily take six hours to get there and back. Lek liked to take a friend so that they could make a day of it – do some shopping and eat lunch somewhere nice. This was the plan for the day also.
Lek and Craig had been getting on a lot better since he had given her a hundred thousand Baht – a quarter of the money that he needed to keep in a Thai bank in order to qualify for a twelve-month visa extension. It troubled him, but at least his ‘family’ was stable again for a while and everyone was happy or to be accurate: Soom was ecstatic, Lek appeared happy and Craig was pretending to be happy.
Lek had postponed her plans to go back to work indefinitely, which was a relief to Craig, although he was all too aware that he had had to pay her a hundred thousand Baht to keep her. Not an ideal arrangement, but it did give him time to think about what to do next and he did feel that the two ladies in his life had earned the right to a year’s stability, even if he did decide to leave them high and dry the following year.
There was no question about it, Craig was feeling terribly hurt that Lek had been prepared to leave him at two days’ notice after they had been together for eight years. He just didn’t know what to do about it just yet and he wanted to help Soom stay in university. The kid had never had much and was genuinely nice. He often wondered whether Lek had been like that before going to Pattaya. He knew that she was a very popular woman, she often seemed to be the life and soul of the party, but she was often a different person when they were alone. Especially the last couple of years. Maybe she had grown bitter through disappointment, but disappointment with what? With him?
He had always done his best and no-one had ever suggested otherwise. When people left for the fields at seven or seven-thirty in the morning, his office light was always on and when they went to bed at nine, ten or eleven at night, his light was still burning. All the neighbours knew that and Lek had said she was very proud that he was such a hard worker. But it was true that the long hours had not translated into a good salary.
He had spent all his saving and everything he had earned keeping the three of them together and now it seemed that Lek had been topping up the house-keeping money with her own savings too.
He could think of only one thing to do: sell the flat in his home town of Barry, South Wales and live off that. He and Lek had been hoping to keep the flat for their retirement. It was not worth a lot of money, but if it had continued to rise in value for ten years, it would have seen him out and left Lek with a few million baht too.
Now it would have to go and there would be no welcome boost to the retirement fund for either of them, unless Fate pulled its fickle finger out.
It began to dawn on him that Lek had been trying to get him to sell the house, so that she wouldn’t have to go back to work. It was possible, because it would have been out of character for Lek to ask anyone to do anything as momentous as sell a house just to help her. She was far too independent for that. The more Craig thought about it, the more it made sense that that was what Lek had wanted all along.
∞
Lek and her friend Su waited until nine for the eight o’clock bus and so arrived at the bus station at ten-thirty. They had bought the two bus tickets ten minutes later and had about four hours to enjoy themselves before the next bus went there way. Lek made it clear that she would have to get some money from an ATM.
“I don’t have much money on me, I’m afraid, but Craig gave me a hundred thousand the other day, so we can take some of that, go for lunch – on me of course – and then we’ll have a look around the shops.”
Su was pretty much in awe of her friend and always had been, but a hundred thousand Baht was about nine months salary to her, so this was very impressive stuff.
“Let me see... we can spend five thousand today and I’ll take ten thousand to Laos with me. I’ve never been there, but they must have some decent shops, mustn’t they? Have you ever been there, Su?”
“No, not me Pee Lek. I’ve only left the province once and that was to go to Bangkok for a few days when we got married fifteen years ago. We stayed with the old man’s auntie. It was nice enough though. I haven’t even got a passport and wouldn’t know how to get one. Have you got a passport, Pee Lek?”
“Oh, yes, we went to Wales a few years ago, remember. I know Thais can enter Cambodia and Laos without a passport, but you can’t fly to Europe without one.”
Lek was not the sort of person to rub people’s noses in her apparent good fortune, but she did like to milk situations for the maximum amount of face she could get out of them. It was a habit she had gotten into after returning from Pattaya with Craig, when her reputation in the village was at a pretty low ebb and so was her self-esteem.
They took seats in a nice but not posh restaurant, after all, Lek didn’t want to embarrass her friend whose table manners left a lot to be desired.
“Order what you like, Su, it’s my treat to say ‘thanks’ for coming with me today. It’s so boring doing it alone. It’s very reasonable here too – good food, but not expensive.”
Su thought it was expensive, but she didn’t say so as she had her pride too.
However, she referred to her friend as ‘Pee’, not because Lek was older than her – they had been in school together – but because Lek appeared to be of higher status than she was. In general, ‘pee’ means ‘You are older than I and I am being polite’, but it can also refer to status, although age confers status too. The ‘opposite’ is ‘Nong’, which is a polite way of referring to a younger person or someone of lower status.
∞
The first stage of the journey was to get from Baan Suay to the bus station. Lek hired one of her friends to take them at seven o’clock in order to catch the VIP bus at nine. The driver took his wife and family in the back of the pick-up for a trip out to the big city, which they probably didn’t do from one month to the next. Once at the bus station, Lek treated them all to a meal and paid the petrol money.
Displaying largesse was one of her favourite jobs – she would have made a great Santa Claus, if he had been a woman.
The next stage, was the actual six-hour bus ride to Udon Thani through the mountains, but as it would be dark, there was nothing to see. Lek had taken her travel-sickness pills as usual, because she suffered from even the shortest car journey. The only problem was that they tended to make her lose her mind for several hours. She was well aware of the problem and would tell Craig when they were working, effectively putting him in charge of her well-being until she came down off them.
Lek invariably fell asleep on long journeys so the tablets were only a problem when they had to change vehicles. As they passed through Loei, Lek popped up from under her travelling blanket and peered past Craig out of the window. She looked him in the face from a few inches away, rubbed her eyes and stared out of the window again.
“If I met someone from here I would not know what to call him,” she said and flopped back in her seat.
“Do you mean: ‘Do you mean that you don’t know where are we?” he asked.
“That’s it,” she replied.
And she was asleep again before he could tell her. He had often regretted not keeping a collection of the odd things that Lek had said and done while stoned on travel-sickness pills.
They arrived in Udon Thani shortly after three and had to wait two hours for the bus to Nong Khai, a city near the Laos border. That took an hour, so at six- fifteen, they took a twenty-minute taxi ride to the border.
Craig was leading Lek around, carrying his laptop and dragging their case, so he was relieved to find the customs channels virtually clear. They filled in the exit papers and went straight through to where they had to get another bus over the long ‘Friendship Bridge’ in order to cross the Mekong into Laos.
Then it was more faffing about with immigration and entry visas and a taxi to a hotel that Craig had booked on the Internet. Lao is very similar to Thai, so Craig had no problem telling the taxi driver the name of the hotel, which was situated on the ‘Water Front’ in the centre of Vientiane.
They were stripping off, going for a shower in their room at ten a.m. After a journey of five hundred kilometres which had taken thirteen hours. Craig was shattered, but Lek was starting to come down. Craig decided to leave the visa for the following day.
They were both tired, hungry, thirsty and inquisitive, but they settled for setting the phone alarm for one o’clock and taking a nap. However, when one o’clock came, they were both raring to go outside and see what Vientiane was like. Lek had some preconceptions of Laos and had met many people from there, but Craig had no idea what to expect. Their first impression as they left the hotel was that it was very clean.
Old but clean, in the way that proud, poor people might wear old clothes and even have an old car, but keep them in the best possible condition. A lot of the street signs still bore their old colonial names in French, although Laos had been communist for decades. Lek was amused by the way Lao used the Thai language. She kept pointing differences out to Craig, who knew enough Thai to understand what she was talking about.
The only thing that Craig remembered about Laos was that it was the most bombed country of all time and that its mostly rural population of about six and a half million were still regularly finding landmines and packets of cyanide dropped by the Americans in the Seventies, so he was surprised to hear so many American accents there.
There were also a lot of French people, presumably tourists. Lek chose a restaurant-cum-bar within a hundred yards of the hotel and they sat down. Lek took the menu and made noises as she read it, Craig ordered a Beer Lao, which he had never tried before and a spa for Lek.
“I have no idea how hot this food will be, telak, so I will order two Thai dishes and some spare ribs for you. OK?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Do you want to try this Lao beer? It’s quite nice.”
She took a sip and agreed.
“I’ll wait for tonight or I’ll be asleep again soon. I can’t drink in the afternoons anymore. It makes me too sleepy.”
“You’re getting old, that’s what it is.”
She knew it was true, but did not want to hear it.
“You can get a new lady if you want. Maybe a Lao lady and stay here...”
They both regretted it. It didn’t take much to cause an argument these days. They both found it hard to talk together for more than fifteen minutes without one of them passing a snide comment or getting angry over the smallest thing. Conversation was like picking your way through a minefield. Craig often didn’t say anything at all for fear of the consequences.
He wondered if Lek was going through an early menopause. He had heard that hormones in food were causing girls to become fertile earlier and women to become menopausal earlier too. Or at least, he thought that he had read it. He couldn’t remember at that precise moment. Perhaps he had dreamed it. It made sense though. If women were born with all the eggs they would ever have and they started using them earlier, the supply would run out earlier too. It sounded feasible, but he had no idea really.
Maybe they had a million eggs and could never use them all up.
Or maybe they went off.
Lek was hoping that this vacation would be a second honeymoon. She didn’t like to suggest it, but she was hoping that Craig would try to make it something romantic, something special. They had not decided how long they would stay, but they had both forgone birthday parties that month. Craig’s on the 14th. had not been important, but Lek’s fortieth on the 12th. had been a milestone.
It was just that the atmosphere had not been right, although the family had urged them to have a joint celebration, like they usually did. Thai Mothers’ Day is also on the 12th, but they didn’t even do much for that – just a small meal at Mum’s. Surely everyone knew that they were going through a very rough patch.
The Seven-Year Itch a year early.
They had plenty of time – they could stay away as long as money allowed, but then they were sort of trying to spend less money, although they were not trying very hard and Craig had not mentioned being frugal on holiday.
She made up her mind to try to be extra nice to him and not find fault with everything he said. She looked up from the menu and smiled at him.
“I will have a glass of beer with you darling. Thank you.”
She called the waiter and placed the order while Craig poured her a drink.
“Cheers! Have you noticed that they don’t say ‘Sawasdee, ka’ here? They say ‘Sabaidee’ instead. I have noticed that they don’t say ‘ka’ or ‘kap’ very often at all.”
“I hadn’t noticed the ‘sabaidee’, but I had noticed the ‘ka’ thing, because Thais put ‘ka’ or ‘kap’ on the end of most sentences...”
“That is because we are polite. There is nothing wrong with politeness...”
“I didn’t say there was, did I? I just assumed it was a regional practice, like in the UK, Londoners say ‘sir’ more often than we do in Wales. It doesn’t make them more or less polite. It’s just their way. Maybe the communists made them drop ‘ka’ here because everyone is supposed to be equal, whereas in Thailand they are definitely not. You have a class structured society, like the UK does, with royalty and all that, but communist countries don’t.
“Their class structure is built on party membership and having a good job in the civil service”.
But Lek had already stopped listening. She didn’t waste any time at all worrying or even thinking about things that didn’t concern her or her family and she certainly didn’t care about the social structure in Laos. She just could not understand why Craig was interested in just about everything, it seemed such a waste of time.
“I emailed my brother last night and asked him to put my flat on the market. If I am lucky, the tenant will buy it, so there might be a quick sale. Well, quick for Britain. British solicitors are not known for doing anything quickly. It could still take two or three months.”
“But, I thought that you were keeping that for when we are older.”
“Look, if I don’t have money to eat and drink, I won’t get a lot older, will I? Yes, I wanted to keep it for another ten years or so too, but things haven’t worked out like that. I didn’t create the recession. I couldn’t predict that people would spend less on the Internet or that the Thai baht would become nearly forty percent stronger or that inflation would hit Thailand as it has. Even you say how quickly prices are rising in Thailand. Food has shot up, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. I know it is not your fault. It’s just that I thought we would have the house to sell when we are older... Now we will be poor when we are old. That is not something nice to look forward to. I will have thirty years to think about how poor I will be when I am old.”
“And me! Not only you! I used to have a house and in three months I will not. Jeez, woman listen to yourself... I, I, I, poor me. What about me? It’s my house you will be eating for the next ten years, don’t forget that. Don’t be so bloody selfish.”
“But you can go home and the government will take care of you, my government will not take care of me. I will be working until the day I die. It is something that I have wanted to talk to you about for a long time, because it worries me.”
“Did you think of that when you were playing cards all day?”
And they were fighting again already. Both seemed to realise it at the same time, because they both fell silent. Craig pretended to read the label on the beer bottle and Lek looked around the walls. The waitress bringing the food broke the awkward silence, giving them a chance to try again.
“One more beer, please,” said Craig. “How is the food, Lek?”
“Do you want to try? It is alright. Not so hot as I like. A bit boring.”
Craig took the proffered spoonful of curry and rice in his mouth.
“It’s OK. Not as hot as you like, I know, but it is all right for me. Maybe they make it like that here because of all the foreign visitors.”
“What about all the Thai foreigners? Don’t we count? I have heard before that Lao food is not as hot as Thai food, now I know that it is true.”
Craig thought that it would be hard for any country’s food to be hotter than Thailand’s, but he judged it prudent not to say so at that juncture in time.
After the meal, they walked up and down the Waterfront for a few hours. Lek bought a parasol to shield her skin from the sun and then they went back to the hotel for a rest.
Lek lay on the bed, watched TV, dozed and pretended to be dozing, while Craig checked his web sites, answered his emails and wrote an article on travelling to Laos for his web site on Thailand. She didn’t want to talk lest it led to more squabbling, especially since they had had such a pleasant walk along the bank of the Mekong.
It seemed to her that everything that she had done had been for nothing. Nearly twenty years before, she had gone to work in Pattaya because the bank was threatening to foreclose on the farm, due to a loan that her father had taken out on it, but now that she needed money, where was the farm to help her?
She had worked in the sex tourism industry for ten years and actually saved money for her daughter’s education, but she had squandered it playing cards. Well, not all of it, but most. Her friend Goong had left her a lot of money, but now it was all gone and with nothing to show for it.
She had relied on Craig to save her and to be fair to him, he was doing, and always had done his best, but they were still broke and now he was having to sell their pension fund ten years early. Again through no fault of his own, but it did now mean that they always would be hard up.
Nothing that she had hoped for and dreamed about was going to come about, except that Soom would go to university and sit the exams. It was something, but it was only a small fraction of what she had wanted. The books were right, it was all Maya. Hopes and dreams were all illusion. There was nothing you could do to change your future. Nothing helped except your behaviour towards others. People got what they deserved, they got their Karma. The rest was all smoke and mirrors – Maya.
What had she achieved? She wanted to cry, but it was beneath her dignity. Not many people and certainly not many things could make her cry.
Not any more, not after ten years in Pattaya.
She looked at Craig’s back. Eight years older. Eight years of slaving over a machine working on a medium that would cease to exist if there were no electricity. She couldn’t even remember how many web sites he had now. There was something sad about that. She ought to know what her husband was working so hard at, but it was all pointless too since it was not paying for their lifestyle, which was not lavish by any Western standards. She would never have the jet-set lifestyle that she had thought having a foreign husband ensured.
She had been so stupid and if it wasn’t for Soom, she would happily be dead. Her mother could take care of Soom, as she always had and if she faked an accidental death, her life assurance would pay Soom a million baht, which would see her through university and buy her a good job.
That was something else that Craig didn’t know about yet. It was one of those embarrassing things that Thais only discussed with Thais. They were ashamed to admit them to foreigners. Corruption. No matter how well Soom did at university, she would never get a very good job if she didn’t have the money to buy her one.
And they didn’t have any money and they didn’t have any reserves or a pension pot. Soom would discover bitter disillusionment early in life, when she realised that university had ensured her an office job, but not a good one. There were several glass ceilings that only money could smash and they didn’t have any and never would have.
She was too old to go back to ‘work’ and earn good money now, but in five or ten years, she would have no chance at all of working in Pattaya. If she were going, she would have to go now or forever hold her peace. Could she rely on Craig to get her out of this awful situation? She would truly be happy to go to sleep now and not wake up again.
Craig woke Lek up at seven o’clock as it was getting dark outside.
“What’s the matter? Why are you waking me up? Oh! I forgot. We’re in Laos. What time is it?”
“Seven. There are a lot of people walking around outside. Shall we go out and have a look? Are you hungry?”
“Yes, OK. I’ll just brush my teeth. Five minutes.”
“OK, Lek. Say, don’t you think we should get some Lao money, some ‘Kip’? We paid in Baht this afternoon, but I think they just round everything up when you pay in Baht. Let’s get five thousand Baht’s worth and see how it goes. I can pay for the hotel by credit card. I don’t know about the visa. What do you think?”
He could hear her gargling in the toilet. When she came into the room, he asked what she thought of the plan.
“I couldn’t hear a word of what you were saying! I only heard ‘blub, blub, blub, blub, blub’. You knew I was brushing my teeth, why were you talking to me? What did you say?”
He told her again.
“Yes, OK. We can get some Kip. You have very many Kip for one Baht, I think. You want to get now, tonight?”
“Sure, as soon as possible, eh? Do you have my new Lloyds ATM card? The green one they sent me last month?”
“Yes.” She rummaged in her bag and handed it to him.
“And the PIN – you know the number – security.”
“I don’t have. You not give to me. You have.”
Craig wanted to blame Lek, but he couldn’t remember having given it to her. She might be right, but that made the card useless.
“Oh, shit. We cannot take money from the UK bank. Do you have your card?”
“No. I not take any gold or cards with me, I think it is not safe in Laos, because I do not know here.”
“Right... so we cannot get any money from the banks and we are on holiday in Laos. Great! I’m not blaming you... I am just saying. I am thinking aloud. How much money do you have?”
“Thai money?”
“What else? Do you have any Chinese?”
Lek was already counting out some notes. “A little more than seven thousand Baht.”
“OK, the visa costs nineteen hundred, I believe, so we have money to last for now, but we either have to go home early or.... This is bloody daft, eh? Who goes abroad with no money, eh? Only us! Come on, let’s go out. We can change a thousand Baht and enjoy ourselves. We can deal with it all tomorrow. Are you ready? Come on then, my dear.”
They turned left out of the hotel and walked the three hundred yards to the bureau de change that they had spotted earlier in the day. The exchange rate was two hundred and fifty-one Kip to the Baht and Lek was as delighted as a child at Christmas to be given a quarter of a million Kip for her one thousand Baht note.
She felt very rich and very superior, which were sensations that she was not accustomed to.
“Look at all this money, Craig! Look!”
“Yes, Lek, it’s a thousand Baht in Kip. The numbers don’t matter, it is the value that counts.”
But she wasn’t listening again, just counting the notes over and over.
“Where do you want to eat, dear?” asked Craig.
“Oh, we can eat anywhere with this sort of money,” she replied. “How about that open-air restaurant on the pavement near the hotel? The food looked very nice and they had the big prawns that you like.”
So, they walked back towards the hotel and sat at an empty table in the restaurant area. When the waiter came, Craig ordered two beer Lao’s, ice and a glass. When that had arrived, Lek went with the waiter to select the food that she wanted cooked for them.
Lek was in her element, but Craig was feeling rather stupid for not having checked his ATM cards.
The food that Lek picked was fit for a king. They had a dozen huge prawns, a large, steamed, pink river fish, spare ribs, salad and shellfish. Just as they were struggling to get to the end of it all, Craig ordered another round of beer. The waiter looked at his watch and said:
“It is nine o’ clock. We close now. Everything in Vientiane close now, but you can have one more, if you are quick. You must finish before I clean everything away... OK?”
Craig agreed. Lek and Craig stared at each other.
“Surely, the capital city of Laos doesn’t close at nine thirty, Lek?”
“That is what he said. Look around you. Lights are going out, people are going home.”
Lek spoke to the waiter when he returned with the beers and the bill. He confirmed that the city did indeed close at nine thirty by order of the government. Lek was not all that bothered, because she normally went to bed at nine thirty anyway, but she was shocked when she saw the bill of a hundred and eight-five thousand Kip.
∞
They rose at seven thirty, showered and went down for breakfast. There were both Thai and ‘European’ styles, so they were both happy with that. Then they went back to the room, picked up their paperwork for the visa and went back down. Another surprise awaited them- they needed sixty thousand Kip to get to the embassy and back in a broken-down, tuk-tuk motorbike taxi, so they had to change another thousand Baht. Lek was not so impressed with the two hundred and fifty thousand Kip she collected after seeing how fast it could run through her fingers.
At the Thai embassy, Craig collected his form, filled it in, stuck his two photos on it and waited for his number to be called. When it was, he went up to the counter. The immigration official looked over his document quickly and said:
“Marriage certificate.”
Craig called for Lek, who came running, as she hated to keep officials waiting. They talked. Lek looked in her bag. Then said something and the official said:
“Next!” A man tried to take Craig’s place at the counter.
“Hey! Stop pushing! Wait your bloody turn! Excuse me, what is the problem with my application?”
“Your wife no have marriage certificate and no have house book. I cannot gib you non-immigrant ‘O’ visa. Next!”
“No, wait! So what can I do about it?”
“You can go back and get all your papers I need. Next!”
“But that will take a day or more...”
“Not my problem. I must see papers. You not have papers. What can I do? Next!”
“Isn’t there anything I can do? How about if I change my application for a two-month tourist visa?”
“No can do, I know what you want now already. I cannot do that. Next!”
“This is crazy!”
“Send your wife home get. You can go too or wait here in Vientiane, now please go. Next!”
Craig turned to glare at the man who was hovering behind him. He backed off a little.
“OK, I can accept fax of papers this one time, because I see you have long visa before. Now go. Next!”
Craig bumped the next guy in the queue as he exited the line.
“Isn’t it bloody marvellous? Why do I need to prove I’m married to get that visa. Your ID has your name ‘Williams’ on it; your passport has bloody ‘Williams’ in it. It’s not a very common name in Thailand, is it? Do they think I searched Thailand for a Thai woman called Williams so I could get a ninety-day visa instead of a sixty-day one? Jesus! That makes me so angry. Well, now we are stuck here. Tomorrow is Friday, so if we hand the forms in then, we won’t get them back until Monday. OK, back to the hotel.
“And we don’t have any money! Shit, shit, shit, shit, sodding shit!”
Back in their room, Lek phoned her mother to go into their house to get the documents and fax them to their hotel. Her mother was pretty worried about taking on such a hi-tech venture, but she assured Lek that she would get it done with someone’s help. Meanwhile, Craig Skyped his friend in Barry, Blond Billy, and asked him to lend them £300 for a week or so. Billy agreed to wire the money care of the hotel.
The money actually arrived before the paperwork from Thailand, but they eventually had everything they needed and Lek went back to the bureau de change with $420 to exchange some of it for a million Kip. Holding a million Kip had as much effect on her as two hundred and fifty thousand had the day before.
In the afternoon, they went for a walk along the Mekong again and then back to the hotel. It was really too hot to do much and there didn’t seem much to do anyway.
In the evening, they ate at a different, but similar outdoor restaurant and the bill at nine thirty was about the same. Lek concluded that Vientiane was a lot more expensive than Bangkok and if she could have gone home the next day she would have, but there was still the visa to get.
The visa application went smoothly enough, although the transaction could not be completed in one day. It has to be applied for on one day and collected the following business day, which meant staying until Monday. They both reckoned that they would have had enough of Vientiane by then to make going back home no hardship.
